


You'll Shoot Your Optic Out!

by Evedawalrus



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, Gift Fic, M/M, Mistletoe, Non-Specific Holiday Festivities, maybe Swerve told everyone about human holidays idk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-28
Updated: 2018-12-28
Packaged: 2019-09-29 11:51:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17202914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evedawalrus/pseuds/Evedawalrus
Summary: Cyclonus doesn't know what to give to his conjunx this holiday season. Swerve gives some advice.





	You'll Shoot Your Optic Out!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thesunflowerscribe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesunflowerscribe/gifts).



“You should get him a gun.”

“I’m not going to buy Tailgate a gun, Whirl.”

“A sword, then! You’ll be matchy-matchy….” Whirl cooed, his optic glittering at the prospect of the couple wielding matching swords. He clicked his claws together excitedly.

Cyclonus sighed heavily, trying to ignore how the bot kept shoving himself into his personal space. He took a sip of his drink; he wasn’t overcharged enough for this. “No, Whirl.” 

“Ugh, fine!! But why not a gun??” Whirl groaned rather dramatically, slumping over the bar counter and nearly knocking off several glasses. Swerve squeaked in alarm and dove to catch the few that did. 

“He’ll shoot his optic out.”

A snort of laughter came from the floor. Whirl and Cyclonus peered over the counter to spot Swerve, who was cradling several glasses in his stumpy arms. “Oh, uh-” Swerve blushed a bit, “-it’s a thing. From a movie. Earth movie, it’s called a Christmas Story, and this kid, he’s like, obsessed with this one toy gun that he wants but everyone tells him ‘you’ll shoot your eye out’ and-”

“Well this is boring and I hate it.” Whirl cut off Swerve’s rambling. He stood up from the stool he had been sprawled across, gave a lazy salute to Cyclonus, and started for the door. “I’m gonna go steal Magnus’s desk tidy so I can gift it back to him tomorrow. Good luck in your present hunting! Consider the sword idea!” 

Cyclonus watched him bounce away, then sighed again. He turned his gaze back onto Swerve, who was now putting the glasses into the sink. “Y’know,” Swerve said as he began washing them, “maybe I could help out in your quest!”

“It’s not really a quest, Swerve. I simply need to find something Tailgate would like.” 

“Still, it seems like you’re having some trouble.” The minibot rested an elbow on the counter, flashing a grin that looked just a bit too devilish. “And I... have an idea.” He leaned in and whispered something to Cyclonus. 

Cyclonus drew back to give Swerve a look. “And you are sure that Tailgate will like this.. present?”

“Hey,” Swerve shrugged, “you got any better ideas?”

Cyclonus frowned. A minute passed, and Swerve’s confident grin began to falter as the larger bot tapped a claw against the counter. When he finally spoke, it was with such suddenness Swerve flinched.

“Very well. Where do I find this plant?”

 

* * *

 

Tailgate was muttering to himself as he walked down the hallways of the Lost Light. “-maybe another sword? No no, he’s already got a good one… a dagger? That’s kinda like a baby sword... ” Tailgate paused and briefly pictured Cyclonus holding a tiny sword. His visor flashed as he giggled, and he shook his head to rid it of the image before continuing on his way. 

Approaching their habsuite, Tailgate became more twitchy, twisting his hands as he muttered more frantically. “Maybe a song? No, he already knows every tetrahexian chant there is… and he didn’t like much pop music other than  _ our  _ song… Scrap, what am I gonna-” 

Tailgate went abruptly silent as he heard noises coming from the habsuite. 

“Why can’t you stay- argh- still?! You can stand like you’re made out of stone in my bar and scare people away just by moving, but you can’t- tch- let me put this on???”

“They are  _ sensitive _ , so I would appreciate if you exercised more  _ care _ when touching them.” 

Tailgate’s steps screeched to a stop. Well, not literally—he was quite careful not to make a sound. Even though they were not visible in any describable way, his optics went cartoonishly wide. His cheeks turned a light blue, and he began edging towards the door. 

“I too am being careful! If you’d just stop- stop shifting-!”

A powerful growl came from inside the habsuite. Tailgate startled, and his engine turned over with a sputter. 

All sound from within the habsuite stopped in an instant. Tailgate let out a small “whoops,” before he decided to face whatever he had interrupted. Before he could even open the door, however, it slid open to put him face to face with Swerve. “Oh! Tailgate, hi!” He smiled a bit too widely. 

“Uh, what’s-” Tailgate began, but Swerve cut him off. 

“Aw man look at the time I gotta go open the bar!” He scurried to the end of the hallway, looking back with a more relaxed smile to say, “you two should come by later—we’re doing some christmas carol karaoke!”

Tailgate blinked after him for a second. Then, with a muttered “ookay” he turned back to the door. It slid open smoothly, revealing… 

Uh. Well. 

Tailgate’s processor fritzed a bit, struggling to recognize the scene in front of him. 

Cyclonus was sitting on the berth, his arms crossed. His skeletal face was twisted up in a peculiar expression, like he was trying not to scowl and partially failing. A light blush had bloomed over his cheek-plates, and his optics seemed determined not to meet Tailgate’s flashing visor. 

And from one horn, a sprig of mistletoe was tied up with string, It dangled just over Cyclonus’s face, which was turning redder the longer Tailgate stared at it. 

“...Well?” Cyclonus shifted. Tailgate felt warmth bloom in his chest as he realized that Cyclonus was  _ embarrassed _ . That. Was. So.  _ CUTE. _ The corners of his facemask turned up as he bounced on his feet. 

“Cycloonuusssss!!!!” Tailgate put his hands over his facemask as he hopped over to the berth and clambered up onto it. “You look adorable!”

Cyclonus hunched his shoulders—he looked like he’d almost fold in on himself if Tailgate kept cooing over him like this. But he had dealt with his conjunx’s adoration before. 

Sighing, he forced his struts to relax, and took Tailgate’s hand. “I was having difficulty thinking of a proper present for you… Swerve suggested this-” he looked up to the plant that hung over his optics, “-plant. I believe it has a human tradition associated with it?”

Tailgate glanced to where Cyclonus was holding his hand, and his visor sparkled. “Aw, Cyclonus, you big sap…”  

Cyclonus smiled at his conjunx, leaning down to deliver a soft kiss to Tailgate’s facemask. The minibot couldn’t help but let out a small laugh, but eagerly pressed into the kiss. 

When they finally pulled away, Tailgate sighed. “I only wish I had a gift for you too, Cyclonus… I couldn’t really think of anything.” His gaze listed off to the side.

Cyclonus put a clawed hand to Tailgate’s cheek, forcing him to meet the soft red glow of his optics. “Tailgate.. your love is the greatest gift I could ever receive.”

Tailgate’s visor flashed, his cheeks heating in a blue blush. “Aw gosh, Cyclonus!” His optics dimmed as he turned away, waving a hand as if to dismiss such a mushy sentiment. “You’re making me blush...”

He abruptly turned back and fixed Cyclonus with a serious look. “But seriously tell me what you want cause I’m struggling here.”

Cyclonus blinked. A surprised laugh erupted from his throat, and he shook his head in amazement. Tailgate huffed. “Hey, you know I’m jealous of people that can do things!!! I can’t not get a present for you if you’ve gotten one for me!”   
  
Cyclonus only laughed harder, his deep voice echoing out of their habsuite and down the hall. Tailgate scowled, swatting at his conjunx in annoyance.    
  
“Stop laughing!! Cyclonus!! ARGH!!!” 

Cyclonus cut off the minibot’s protests by pulling him into another kiss. 

“.....M’still mad at you, you know,” Tailgate muttered, though it lacked any actual fire behind it.

“Mmm,” Cyclonus hummed. 

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was for my tf server's secret santa, and it was also my first time writing cygate! These two are adorable, I should write them more...


End file.
